Ginny
by linzhatterxx
Summary: He had a Twinkie thing, she had a Red Vines thing. WARNING: Language.
1. Chapter 1

"Her name was Beverly. Beverly Hills" said Columbus.

"You dog..." replied Tallahassee, slightly envious. He didn't entirely believe the little spitfuck's story about the Fed Ex truck, but hey, he'd play along. Who knows, maybe the twerp was more of a man than he let on. Maybe Miss Beverly Hills was a real broad. Stranger things happened these days.

"So, what about you?"

The question hung in the air for a while, conversation put on hold when they spotted what used to be a stuck up business woman munching on some poor, unsuspecting fucker. Tallahassee wasted no time in nailing her head with the car door as they passed, and Columbus just shook his head, once again thankful that he was at least on his companion's good side (or the closest thing to it).

Nearly an hour had passed before the question was finally answered. "There was this girl a few weeks back." He let out a hearty laugh, swerving for the hell of it, "Found 'er in a grocery store. I nearly blew 'er fuckin' head off till I realized she wasn't dead. You think I got a Twinkie thing? Shoulda' heard her go on about Red Vines." Tallahassee shook his head, "Well, anyways, picked her up and she rode with me for a while. Cute little fucker; red hair, jeans and a t-shirt, only thing she had with 'er besides her sawed off shotgun was this massive plaid bag. Swear she had a whole fuckin' convenience store in there..."

He never caught her name, nor did he care. He didn't wanna get too attached to her, and she seemed to have the same mindset. 'No more attachments' was a motto he held dearly to. Attachment simply meant someone close he'd have to take out eventually.

So he called her Ginny. It was the hair, he figured now, that stirred the name, and she didn't seem to mind. Judging by some of the patches on her bag, she was a Harry Potter fan, too. Of course, this was something Tallahassee would never publicly admit having knowledge of. But they were one of Bucks favorites, and he loved to listen to his dad read them.

Though the name may have created more of an attachment to this girl then he would like to admit, anything that was a good memory of Buck was considered alright in Tallahassee's book. Maybe it was because of this new fondness of this girl's name, or maybe Tallahassee was being nice; regardless she rode with him for a few days, glad to be off her feet more than anything.

"I've been walkin' for a week straight. Some little shit of a zombie decided to jump in fronna' my Mustang. Splattered my windshield, made me drive straight into a fuckin' wall. I never killed a kid before, but I let that mother fucker have it. You don't fuck with my cars, and especially not my 1970 Boss." While he didn't agree with her choice in cars, he could, at least, understood her passion towards 'em.

More than that, he sorta pitied her. She had the mouth of a sailor, a trigger happy finger, and plenty of battle scars to show she was tough; but there would be times that he'd wake up in the night and see her crying to herself, curled up in a ball with a few pictures in her hands.

He got the pictures away from her one night, after she was asleep. Not that he cared or anything, more of curiosity than anything. He could only assume they were the people she'd lost. There was a girl, taller than she was (and with bigger tits, too), and a chubbier boy, they looked like they were at an amusement park in that picture. In another, she was hugging another girl who was closer to her height; her hair was much longer here, and she had braces in it (she was a youngin', by his standards). One picture didn't even have people in it, it was just of what he figured used to be her room; there was a fat black and white cat on her bed. There were others, but he stopped after the cat. It was too personal, and he never got personal. It was one thing to have sex with her (oh, and they had, many times in many places - she was a freak), but he didn't want to know where she came from, what her story was. Things had gone farther inside his head than they needed to.

They parted ways about a week later, he didn't even know where they were exactly; all he knew was that she spotted a bike that she liked, she gave the him the roughest kiss goodbye he'd ever had, swiped his bottle of Jack, and was gone.

"Wouldn't mind runnin' into that one again." He sighed, then saw Columbus looking at him funny. "Yunno, cause she was a good lay. And the best shot I'd ever seen, comin' from a lady. She was nice to have around; she liked killin' them fucking zombies 'bout as much as me."

His thoughts went to the pictures in his wallet, of Buck, and one he'd nicked of her smiling, with that damn old Ford, to his nickname he gave her, then to the books he used to read to Buck. At that point he shook his head; God he wanted a fuckin' Twinkie...

**A/N;; Credit for this story has to go to a friend of mine, who wrote up the mini drabble that inspired it and worked on the full one-shot with me. To David, my fellow Peppy Little Spitfuck. :]**


	2. Chapter 2

After the cluster fuck that was Pacific Playland, there was no question that the four of them were sticking together. They were a pretty good team, and though Tallahassee would sooner throw himself into a mob of undead bastards than admit it, but he'd grown kinda attached to the rest of 'em. They were nothin' on Buck, but it was kinda nice to have something like kids again….

"I'm hot," Little Rock whined, draping herself out the window of the truck. Wichita grunted her agreement from the back seat, and Columbus looked over just in time to see a vein popping in Tallahassee's temple.

"Maybe we could find somewhere to cool off? Like a pool or something?" Columbus suggested, wishing he hadn't almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

"You're kidding, right?" Wichita leaned forward and looked between the two men, "Any place like that is gonna be a zombie hotbed. I dunno about you, but I'd rather sweat to death than be eaten alive."

Tallahassee snickered to himself here, knowing that if Columbus wasn't such a pussy, he'd be more than happy to "eat her alive." Tallahassee was lost in his thoughts, or fantasies might be a better word. He hadn't failed to notice that Wichita _was_ a woman; Columbus wasn't the only one with eyes. But while those thought possessed his mind, he almost didn't hear his companions screaming. He slammed on the brakes, and turned to look at them.

"What in the hell was that all about?" He demanded, not completely surprised to see Columbus looking like he'd seen a ghost. But the look on Wichita's face told him all he needed to know: Zombie.

He grinned like a madman while he reached down by his feet for his six gun and turned toward the front of the car. "This one's mine, kiddies," he drawled, sliding out of the truck and looking around. Columbus looked back at Wichita. She looked at him and sighed. "Considering the heat, he can knock himself out."

Tallahassee glared around him, annoyed that they'd made such a fuss, and there seemingly wasn't one goddamn zombie to rip apart that he could see. He was just about to turn back when something caught his eye; a black and white plaid bag. His insides turned to ice.

_No,_ he blinked; there was no way she'd gone down, not her. He looked around slowly, picking up her bag. He knew it was dangerous to just stand there. After all, if she was even still in the general area, she could easily be just another zombie now. But just the same, he didn't wanna do anything before he was sure….

"Tallahassee?" Columbus was standing beside the truck now, his double barrel in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin', just… pokin' around…."

Something came out from behind an overturned car car. He pointed his gun, but then, a laugh and "Talla-fuckin'-hassee!"

Ginny grinned up in front of him, pushing her hair out of her face and laughing as if she couldn't believe it. Tallahassee couldn't, either. He had a hard enough time believing he could run into the big bitch and the little bitch twice, but now he was running into Ginny. This just seemed like a dream.

"Well, fuck me sideways!" He whooped and grinned again, kind of running towards her. She leapt onto him and half hugged, half crushed him, while the others just looked on in pure confusion. Columbus caught on, after a moment.

"It's Ginny," he mumbled to the girls in the back seat.

"Who?" Wichita asked, raising an eyebrow at the beyond rare display of affection.

"She was this girl he met before me. They kinda… did stuff." He blushed a little, catching a glimpse of the lip lock his older friend was involved in. "I guess he's... happy to see her…."

The sisters exchanged a look as Tallahassee and the new girl walked back to the group, "Columbus, Wichita, Little Rock," he was smirking like he only did after a zombie kill (or, as of late, a twinkie), which frightened the three of them a bit. "This is Ginny."

"Hey," the redhead grinned at them, taking an extra moment to look at Wichita. Columbus raised an eyebrow and glanced back at her, but her expression told him nothing. "I gotta say, Tal, I never expected t'find ya with a posse."

Columbus' eyes got wide; if any of them dared to nickname him like that, he had a feeling they'd be dragged behind his precious truck for a good few miles.

"Well, shit happens, Gin. You know that. How'd you end up all the way out here, anyway?" He looked down at her, and she shrugged, which looked like a feat with his massive arm over her shoulders.

"I was headin' east for a while, but I just got a weird feelin' that I should turn around. I dunno," she shrugged again, and smiled up at Tallahassee. "Thought I might run into somethin'. Never thought it'd be you."

"You complainin', missy?" He smirked and almost growled at her, she giggled back at him. The other three were left to stand and stare, utterly perplexed by the change in Tallahassee's behavior.

Hours later, when they'd found an abandoned house that was zombie free (after some weeding, of course), Columbus continued to find himself surprised. He thought, upon meeting Tallahassee, there was no one in the world like him. But the more Ginny talked, he seemed to be wrong. She was like him in a lot of ways: from the accent in her voice, to her hatred of zombies, even going so far as to having an obsession with one specific food (in her case, Red Vines).

They stayed up late playing Monopoly, the one they'd taken from Billy Murray's house. The actual money for the game was lost and forgotten, but as they'd also taken a large amount of the real stuff from Tallahassee's idol, that didn't matter much. The money was really nothing more than bragging rights, anyway. Before reuniting with Ginny, Tallahassee had been the best. It was clear, though, after a few games that he'd met his match, if not his superior. "I grew up with family game nights, sweetheart. Shoulda' known better."

Eventually they lost interest in the game (or Tallahassee had, anyway), and Wichita and Columbus began bombarding Ginny with questions. Columbus was more interested in where she'd come from, but Wichita was more curious about her relationship with their rough and tumble companion. Tal merely smirked as she explained (once Little Rock was obviously asleep); by the end of it, both listeners were blushing. Tallahassee raised an eyebrow at Wichita – he'd never seen the girl blush before. Despite wanting to stay up, Columbus dozed off against the couch after another hour, and Tallahassee wasn't far behind.

He snorted, jolting himself back into consciousness. The room was still, which eased the growing tension in his stomach, but that didn't mean that there wasn't _someone_ in there with them. He checked to make sure that Little Rock was still asleep, then glanced over his shoulder to try and find what had woke him up. The sight he was greeted with earned a chuckle; Ginny and Wichita got along better than even he expected. It looked like they were in a heated battle for dominance, their tongues and fingers as their only weapons. He tried to roll over discreetly, to get a better view, but couldn't pull it off. So he settled on his back, contenting himself with just listening. He didn't know about Wichita, but he _knew_ Ginny wasn't a quiet girl….

"I gotta say, I wasn't expecting that," Ginny breathed after a long period of time. Tallahassee opened an eye just enough to see the girls pulling their clothes back on. _Fuckin a… _Tallahassee thought to himself. He had just missed two hot chicks, possibly the last two hot chicks on the planet, doing God knows what. But it was something nekid, and he missed it.

"I thought you and Whatsisface, the mopey one, had a thing." Ginny asking, glancing at her bra. After a moment, she decided to put it back on, seemingly content with being naked as long as possible. Wichita shrugged, fixing her hair, not at all minding Ginny's naked, or now half naked, figure.

"He thinks we do. I mean got a little flirty when I was drunk, and then I thought we had something after the Pacific Playland thing. The whole knight in shining armor thing was working for me, but after a while that wore off. And I realized he really did have the guts of a guppie. Don't get me wrong, he's great to have a round, but he seems to think that we're gonna get married or some shit. And that's just not going to happen. Besides… where the hell are we going to find a priest?"

Ginny, chuckling at Wichita's joke, said, "You oughta tell 'em. 'Nut up or shut up,'" Tallahassee grinned.

"I would, but I get the feeling that he'd throw himself off an overpass if I did. And he is sweet… just… not my type."

"Yeah, your type has tits, right?" She said, leaning over and grabbing Wichita's.

"Well, and lacks other things, but that's not the point," Wichita said looking up and down the body she was seconds ago underneath. "So you're not… planning on going anywhere are you?" She asked hopefully.

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny asked. "With tits and an ass like yours, and Tallahasse's, well… Gun, of course I'll be sticking around." She said looking over at Tallahassee, noticing one of his eyes opened.

"Now come here," Ginny commanded as she grabbed the collar of Wichita's shirt and pulled her in. She made sure to give her a nice, long, sultry kiss, which Tallahassee seemed to enjoy just as much as the other girl. After she finally let go, Wichita was nearly out of breath once again.

"Now you just head off to bed. And maybe, we can do this another night?" With that, Wichita's eyes sparkled and she responded, "Yes ma'am!"

_Well, whoda' thunk it. Wichita's a rug muncher, _thought Tallahassee. And with that wonderful thought in his mind, he drifted back to sleep.


End file.
